


Frozen Criminal

by Em3kitty



Category: Snowpiercer
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Maybe - Freeform, Memory Loss, Romance, history of romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 02:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em3kitty/pseuds/Em3kitty
Summary: Darkness. All she knew was darkness. When Renée is awoken from cryogenic sleep aboard the Snowpiercer, having been convicted of an unknown crime, she joins the revolution of people travelling to the front of the train with ideals of equality. Join her as she discovers herself and so much more.





	1. Darkness

**Chapter Soundtrack: Gone by Pat Metheny**

 

The last thing I remember was the icy bite of a needle and being lifted onto a metal draw before everything went black. Before the needle prick was another. Before that, nothing. I remember light and warmth turning into dark and cold. I remember a name, Renée. Whether it be mine, or someone I know - knew - was beyond me, but that was the only solid thing I had to hold on to in the darkness. I don't know how long the darkness lasted; time was fluid, day and night indistinguishable. The darkness was never terrifying, it was comforting. There was something in my lost memories that made me feel like where I was, was the safest place to be. Being trapped in the dark and thinking I was safer here than out there was what terrified me.

The dark wasn't just dark, it was silent save for a constant hum. The silence, the hum, at first it was deafening. I thought I would go insane if I didn't hear something that indicated time passing or simply that I wasn't alone in the world. Now I don't think that, I'm only left to wonder then if I have gone insane. Darkness and silence were all I had; time was non-existent, memories I had none, and all there was to be heard was the constant, low hum that almost rumbled.

There was only one other fact I knew about my environment. I couldn't move. The first thing I tried to do when I was aware of the darkness and silence was try my other senses, particularly touch. But there was no movement. It could be from a paralytic or loss of limb. It was the latter which had caused me to wonder if I even have a physical source to begin with. It was the memory of the pain as the cold needle pierced my skin that brought my thoughts back and disregarded a lack of physical form.

The last thing I remember was a needle before the darkness. The first thing I knew as the darkness left was my senses going into overdrive. So much noise and sound, the sound of people talking and arguing. I could feel, the cold air biting my bare skin. It was then that I knew that I was naked save for two pieces of cloth across my chest and lap. My sense of smell was overwhelmed with the putrid stench of bodies that hadn't bathed in an unknown amount of time.

Of all my senses, it was my sight that was overwhelmed the most. To go from darkness so dark to a blinding light, I surprised myself with my hands on reflex, flying to cover my eyes, trying to bring back the darkness. As I moved, I heard the voices stop. The only indication that people were there was the sound of heavy breathing and the strong stench lingering in the air. Slowly I removed my hands and opened my eyes, trying to adjust to my new environment. Slowly I sat up and came face to face with a metal door, much like the one that was opened for me.

Turning around I saw the faces of many people looking at me expectantly, some glancing back and forth between myself and a tall, well built man standing on the side of my shelf. His sharp blue eyes were hard, along with the rest of his face, but there was something behind that hardness that looked like hope. His hair was short and covered with a black beanie. His face, should it be clean, would be a fair colour and was covered in filth and grime, much like every other person surrounding us. He had a rugged, unkept beard, as if he had been unable to shave for weeks. Hidden beneath the beard was the outline of a strong jaw. Like everyone else surrounding me, he looked underfed. His clothing seemed to hang off him, torn and shredded in places. If it wasn't for his strong hands tightly gripping some sort of axe, I would not have considered him a threat.

For the first time since I was awoken, the man spoke directly to me. His pink lips seeming almost hesitant yet hopeful as he pronounced one word.

One word holding so many emotions and questions.

"Renée?"


	2. Noise

**Chapter Soundtrack: Pictures in an Exhibition - Piano Guys**

My first thought as the man said that one word was not regarding what he said, but rather, how he said it. To tell the truth, I was not even listening to his words, it felt as if there were a fog in my head. His voice, it was familiar. I knew him, his voice comforted me. It wasn't until he spoke again that I realised I was staring.

"Renée? Is it really you?" I opened my mouth to reply but it felt as if my throat and mouth had been drained of all moisture. Subconsciously, I brought a hand to my throat and rubbed, as if trying to soothe the scratchiness.

The man turned to the boy standing at the end of the draw. That was the first time I really looked at someone apart from the man that had spoken. He was of just above average height spiked blond hair, his blue eyes sparkling with a youthful curiosity. He couldn't have been more than 18 at most. Like everyone else surrounding me, dirt and grit coated his face with what appeared to be a slight stubble along his jaw and chin Just like everyone else, he looked slightly bruised and bloodied, as if he'd been in a fight, and won. He was wearing a beige-covered overalls open at the front showing a grey shirt underneath. Just like everyone around him, he looked slightly malnourished.

  
"Edgar, see if you can find some water for her." As the man said that, my eyes snapped back to him, jumping slightly at the suddenness of everything. From somewhere in the crowd, a canister was passed forward to the man who spoke. Slowly he held it out towards me, "drink." As I slowly reached out to take the canister, the corners of the mans lips turned up into a soft smile. After finally removing the cap off of the lid, I took a small sip of the liquid after sniffing.

Tasting nothing but water I greedily drank, feeling as if I hadn't had a drink in years. Pausing, I realised that the thought might not be as strange as I thought. Finishing off the last drop, I removed the canister from my lips, screwed on the lid and looked over at the man. The next thing he said was the phrase that I had been dreading ever since I had awoken. "Renèe, do you remember me?"

Slowly I shook my head before replying. "I'm Renèe?" The look on his face stirred something inside me, it was completely gut-wrenching. To see the slight bit of hope in his eyes slip away, the corners of his mouth turned down to press into a hard line.

  
It was the boy, Edgar, who spoke next. "Curtis, who is she, why can't she remember her name, what happened to her?" He just kept bombarding the man, of whom I now know is Curtis, with questions.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything, a woman pushed through glaring at the two of them. She had a gap between her front white teeth, contrasting her dark skin. He strong stature oozed kindness, but there was something about it that felt sour, as if it had been used against her. Removing an outer jacket she started scolding Curtis and Edgar. "Shame on you two! You're men and can see with your own eyes, she needs clothing. Did you really think she could survive the cold of the train in a couple of towels?" Reaching over and old man in a chair of whom I only just noticed, she passed me the jacket she had just removed.

It was only as I was reaching for it, opening my mouth to voice my thanks, did I notice how cold I was. My hands were shaking, my teeth were chattering, and all I had were the two pieces of cloth around me, surprisingly still around my chest despite sitting upright. Not wanting to talk through my chattering teeth, I smiled at the women's kindness. "No need to thank me hon, the name's Tanya and these two boys are Edgar and Curtis. Lord knows they need introducing, they'd never do it themselves." Wrapping the jacket around me, curling up into it's warmth, I smiled widely at her, her kindness was truly appreciated.

  
The old man was the next to speak up, his voice was deep and gravely, "My dear, if you do not remember your name, then what do you remember?" His tone was curious yet kind, authoritative yet understanding.

Hesitantly I looked to Curtis, something about his presence was re-assuring. As he nodded, I answered.

"Darkness. I remember darkness. Before that, two needles, but that's all." All the man did was nod, as if he was expecting that. He turned and looked to Tanya.

"Tanya would you be able to see if anyone has any spare clothing in their bunks for Renèe to wear?"

Nodding, Tanya pushed her way through the crowd and through a door, my eyes following her until she was out of sight.

Looking at Edgar, the man asked him of my crime. "Edgar my boy, what is her crime, it must have been server for cryo sleep and a memory wipe."

Edgar just shook his head. "There's nothing there. Just a name, Renée Costello."


	3. The List

**Chapter Soundtrack: Awakening - Secret Garden**

  
( _Italics will be Korean_ )

  
My name is Renée Costello.

I am a convicted criminal for an unknown crime.

I have no memory.

The punishment for the crime was memory wipe and cryogenic sleep.

Curtis, one of the men who awoke me, knew me.

I am on a train.

It is cold.

 

That was the list of everything I knew. The list being so short scared me. I wanted to know more. I soon discovered that a revolution was being led, by Curtis and Gilliam, the old man in the chair.

Apparently, about 17 years ago global warming was an issue, so scientists created CW-7 to counteract global warming but it went horribly wrong, freezing the world. Everyone dies save for the fortunate few aboard the train, the Snowpiercer. A social class system was created as people boarded, the rich at the front, the poor at the back. The only food the poor have now are protein blocks, were as the rich are believed to have steak and this was just a prime example of the vast differences. The poor had nothing while the rich had everything. The revolution aims to reach the front, take control of the engine, therefore taking control of everything, and distribute the wealth evenly. All this was explained to me by Gilliam as Curtis and Edgar searched for a Namgoung Minsoo, a security specialist who would help them reach the front.

As Gilliam finished telling me the basic history of the train and where I was, Tanya came back with a few clothes. "Now hon, I hope these fit, a few of the girls weren't willing to part with them, but seeing as you're so tall, they might be a bit on the smaller side." I raised an eyebrow at her comment on my height and accepted the clothes with grace. Slipping into a corner, Tanya covering my from the prying eyes of men, I dressed into the clothes that, true to her word, were a little small. But it was better than nothing.

  
As I finished dressing, I heard a shout of victory from Edgar and Curtis' words of encouragement. They found the right key. As the draw similar to mine was slid open, it revealed a man curled up on his side. Gently, Edgar pushed Namgoung onto his back. He was completely unresponsive. "Hey, krono head." Slapping his face and clicking, Edgar attempted, and failed, to wake him. I watched as Curtis pulled something out of his pocket. Tanya took one of the lumps of whatever it was. "So this is kronole. I hear it's pretty big in the front section."

  
As she started to sniff it, Curtis turned around to us, taking the lump off of her. "Careful, that's how these guys hallucinate."

Sensing my confusion, Gilliam explained that it was industrial waste, Curtis tacking on the end "and it's highly flammable." I turned my nose up in disgust.

As Curtis waved the Kronole under Namgoung's nose, he eventually woke, sitting up straight away. As Namgoung turned around to face everyone, I noticed the greying in his beard. Curtis looked at him. "Are you Namgoung Minsoo? Security Specialist?"

All he got was a blank stare.

"Did you design all the door locks and security systems on the train?"

Silence.

Edgar then spoke up. "Look at him man, he's gone. Look at his eyes."

True to his word, Namgoung did look stoned. I started for a minute. How did I know what someone looked like when they were stoned?

Edgar's voice jarred my thoughts back to reality. "He's fried his brain with that fuckin shite." I was momentarily taken aback by his language and came close to reprimanding him.

Slowly and quite loudly, Edgar addressed Namgoung. "ARE. YOU. NAM?" Nothing, a blank stare and then lazily, as if it was taking all his energy to do so, he pointed to the shelves on the wall behind us with some sort of device on them. Grabbing one, Edgar threw it to Namgoung, the man behind us wearing a hard hat took one off the shelf and passed it to Curtis.

  
Turning on the device, Curtis spoke into it. "Nam, are you listening?" after waiting a moment, I realised that the device was a translator as it repeated what Curtis had said back to him, in Korean. I was surprised to find I could understand it clearly.

  
Namgoung replied in response and I didn't wait for the translator to understand what he had said. " _Yes, I'm listening, bastard._ " The translator conveyed what he said before he continued. " _My name is not 'Nem', it is 'Nam'. Namgoung Minsoo, shit. Namgoung is my name, Minsoo is my surname, asshole._ "

Listening to his speel and the translator asking him to try again with correct vocabulary, I snorted a laugh. Tanya looked at me like I was insane. I shook my head. "He's just told us how to say his name correctly, with a few explicits."

Curtis gave me a shocked look. "You understand him?"

I nodded.

Curtis then turned back to Namgoung. "We need your help."

"With what?" Curtis looked to me to translate, of which I did.

"We're going to the front, and we need you to open up the gates."

"If I don't want to?"

Holding up a cube of Kronole, Curtis tried to strike a deal. "Uncut, straight from the barrel. For every door you open, you get one lump of Kronole." He then tossed Namgoung the cube but he ignored it, letting it bounce off his lap, to the ground. Slowly, he reached down into his sock and pulled something out.

From beside me, I heard Tanya swear. "Jesus, marvro light?" and someone else, "I can't believe it, cigarettes have been extinct for more than 10 years now."

As the crowed was marveling at the concept of a cigarette still existing, Namgoung struck a match, lighting the cigarette.  
" _You want a smoke too, asshole? It's too good for shit like you._ "

After hearing my translation, Curtis looked really fed up with his attitude.

"I'm gonna make this real simple for you. You help us, you get your drug, if not, we put you back where we found ya. What'll it be asshole?"

While waiting for a reply, I noticed a small boy trying to pinch the matches off of Namgoung. Edgar tried getting him to go. He really looked adorable.

Finally, Namgoung threw the cigarette and a lot of people started scrambling for it, like sewer rats. Sewer rats?

As people were distracted, Namgoung leaped off of his shelf, fighting the people surrounding him until Curtis closed the draw and lifted Namgoung up against the wall. All he did in response was pull the keys, which he must have grabbed from Edgar, and opened another draw, one that was next to him.

As it slid open, it revealed a girl who couldn't be more than 15.

Everyone was shocked to say the least.


	4. Light

**Chapter Soundtrack: The Reel - Secret Garden**

By the time everyone had recovered from seeing such a young girl in cryogenic sleep for a crime, she had woken and sat up. Everyone looked to Namgoung for an explanation. "My daughter, Yona. To move forward, we need her."

Curtis took that as an agreement. "So you're coming with us?"

"For each door I want two blocks of Kronole" He held up two fingers and waited for the translation.

Looking at Yona in disappointment, Curtis said "She's an addict too?" I watched amused as Edgar rolled his eyes.

As Namgoung agreed to help us, he opened a panel in the floors, exposing wires. As he hot-wired the door, everyone was lining up, reading to fight whoever was on the other side of the door. Still feeling weak from being woken up, Curtis insisted that I stay further back, with Gilliam until given the all-clear.

When the doors creaked and Yona said that no one was on the other side, insisting for some Kronole, I couldn't help but giggle at the adorable, hopeful look she gave Curtis who had the drug.

As the door opened to reveal that there truly wasn't anyone there, Curtis pushed his way to the front. Slipping through the people, I followed him, leaving Grey, a tattooed man who couldn't talk, with Gilliam. As people walked through the carriage exploring I heard Tanya look at the accommodation as if she's never seen anything like it before. "Look at all these beds. Where is everybody?"

Edgar replied about the state of the carriage. "Looks like they left in a hurry."

Someone else looked at the table in the middle "There's food on the table!"

While everyone was marveling at the bunks, the kind man with the hard-hat who was always scratching at his clipboard walked over to one side of the carriage. "This can't be a window can it?"

Like I knew what was coming, I clenched shut my eyes, seconds before the inside of the carriage was flooded with light from outside. We must have been in a tunnel. Everyone around me shied away from the light, as if it hurt. Slowly, I opened my eyes along with everyone else, our eyes slowly adjusting to the brilliant bright white light coming through the windows that spanned the carriage.

The first person to say anything was Gilliam. "Still cold." It was as if he was amazed by that. Everyone just watched as the cold, frozen, abandoned landscape passed by. "Dead. All dead."

My heart broke as he said this and I realised that many of the older people on this train probably had friends and family, loved ones, that were left behind as they boarded the train. It was haunting, and chilling.

"All right, let's go everyone. Stay focused, we didn't come here for this." Curtis' voice snapped both myself and everyone around me back to reality. Taking one last glance at the frozen, mesmerizing landscape, I followed Curtis to the door. Glancing at me, he didn't seem to argue that I was there and not at the back with Gilliam and Grey again.

Once again, Namgoung opened a panel and was hot wiring the electric door. Yona again, from her crouched position, held her hand up to Curtis and asked for Kronole.

Fishing the Kronole from out of his pocket Curtis asked Yona about her ability when it came to the door. "How'd you know there was no body there?"

Yona didn't reply, only said "He's running" and like she said, as the doors opened, it revealed a man running towards us. He had this mad look about him, goggles on his head, an apron and gloves on, and as we were about to walk through the doors, he jumped and grabbed onto a valve on one of the pipes near the ceiling.

Walking up to him it seemed that the others recognised him. "Paul?" both Curtis and Edgar asked. "The hell's he doing man? Paul!" staring up at the man, I could hear Edgar's accent clearly.

It was Curtis I heard next. "Gah, he looks so different."

The man, still in his crazed state, said, "Yeah, just a sec. It used to be automatic but parts went extinct."

Edgar leaned over from beside me to Curtis who was on my other side, and said in a low voice, "It's not the Paul I remember."

Paul continued to ramble on.  
Not looking away from Paul, Curtis agreed. "No. Paul! It's Curtis!"

Paul just kept rambling as he finally managed to get the valve to turn, cheering as he did so. Slowly, jelly-like blocks came out from the machine.

Staying where I was, watching the man above, others pushed through to grab the jelly blocks. "Oo, oo, so that's how it's made. Oo, still hot!" I heard Tanya marveling over the jelly blocks, it must be the protein blocks that I heard them talk about.

Tuning everyone else out, I scrunched up my nose at a particularly foul stench. I pushed past the people that were gathered around the conveyor belt and walked further back into the carriage. The man with the hard hat followed me, I still need to find out his name. I believe everyone just calls him Painter.

I followed my nose, climbing up a ladder, looking into the machine. When I saw that the foul smell was what the main ingredient was for their protein blocks, I quickly climbed down. I felt like I was going to be sick. After I climbed down, Painter climbed up, I couldn't even call out to him not to for fear of emptying my already empty stomach. As he saw what was in there, he cried out in shock, getting Curtis' attention.

When he climbed up next to him, he looked as sick and horrified as I felt. Closing the lid, he turned to Painter. "You can't draw this."

Slowly I sat down, clenched my eyes shut and tried to block out the world.

Slowly, everything that has happened sunk in, taking me over, and I welcomed my old friend, the darkness.


	5. Fluidity

**Chapter Soundtrack: Facades by Philip Glass**

Slowly, as I came to, I felt a calloused hand on my shoulder, gently rubbing up and down my arm. Subconsciously, I wriggled closer into the warmth, pressing myself against the wall of warmth.

Hearing a chuckle my eyes snapped open.

At first it was bright, blindingly so, and everything was blurred. Blinking, my eyes came into focus on the bright blue eyes peering down at me, amusement clear.

"If it wasn't so damn funny that the great Curtis Everett has been reduced to a teddy bear, I think I might have thrown up at the lovey-dovey eyes you two were making."

With a jolt, I realised where I was and who I was on. Uncurling myself from Curtis, I glared at Edgar, flipping him off as I got to my feet and walked over to Painter. With a sheepish smirk, he passed me a piece of paper with a charcoal sketch. It was of me, sleeping curled up against Curtis. My eyes were drawn to Curtis' face. Beneath the rough facial features, he seemed so soft, so gentle. Slowly, I wrapped my arm around Painter, as a thanks, still staring at the sketch he gave me.

Glancing up around me at everyone, I saw we were gathered around Gilliam, he had a small slip of red paper in his hand, he was reading whatever was on it ever so carefully. Everyone was looking at the paper, as if our lives depended on it.

Apart from Edgars teasing, everyone was silent, silent and waiting. Then Gilliam's deep, gravelly voice broke the silence.

"The water supply section."

Curtis' bumbling friend Paul was quick to supply information. "Yeah, it's just a few cars up. It's where the, uh, the water is cleansed, and recycled."

Almost as if he was ignoring Paul, Gilliam continued on. "It's one of the most crucial sections of the train."

There was a moments silence before Curtis caught onto their train of thought. "If we take it, we have the upperhand?"

You could tell a huge weight had been lifted off of everyone's shoulders at Gilliam's next words. "We don't even have to go to the very front. We control the water, we control the negotiations."

  
While everyone was processing this, while Namgoong was locating the panel to open the doors, I slipped over to where Curtis was crouched. He looked at me with confusion on his scruffy face. Taking a deep breath, I asked him about what he knew of me, now that I knew the others were not listening in, everyone deep in their own conversations. "Curtis, how do you know me?" My voice was almost a whisper as I asked.

"We were, friends, before everyone boarded the train and the world went to hell." He seemed hesitant to share.

Trying to lighten the mood, I joked "So, we've known eachother for 17 odd years huh?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Try 30." At my stunned look, he continued. "You were 5 years old when you and your father moved into the house next door to mine. Your parents had just gone through a rather nasty divorce and your mother was deemed unfit to raise a child. So, you moved in next door with your dearest father, and I remember as if it were yesterday, you in a little pink dress, your ebony black hair a complete contrast to your porcelain skin. The first thing you did was run into your backyard and roll around in the mud, then scream 'I told you I didn't like pink dad!' It was quite funny. All the while I was watching through the loose panel in the wooden fence, that would soon become our little escape route."

Gradually as he retold the story, Curtis became more and more animated, and by the end, his smile really had stretched from ear to ear, his eyes completely lit up. "As you got older, you really didn't get along with your dad, doing everything you could to annoy him, especially, spend time with me, your lower-class, filthy next-door neighbour. I guess not much has changed hey?"

It took me a moment to realise what he was saying, but when I did, I scowled and shuffled closer to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders in an attempted hug, in doing so, he lost his balance from his crouch and toppled over backwards to the point where he was lying on his back, and I was half across his broad chest.

Without thinking, I pecked him on his cheek before standing up and shuffling my way through all the people sitting down and to Tanya, my cheeks flushed and felt as if they were on fire.

As everyone had finally quieted down, crowded around Namgoong as he fiddled with the exposed wires, Edgar was the ever impatient one. "Er, hi. Hi, 'scuse me, sorry to bother you there, could I get you a glass of water or something to speed this up?" The translator he held to his throat conveyed his message and Namgoong simply ignored him. "Listen would you get on with it man! You're keeping us all fucking waiting."

By the time he had finished shouting at Namgoong, I reached over and slapped him upside the head. "Edgar! Language!"

He rounded on me with a strange look on his face, one similar to exasperation.

"Yes mum."

I missed the rest of the conversation, Edgar's two, sarcastic and very simple words felt like a slap across the face. Then a name popped into my head, much like my own did in the darkness.

Tessa.

Tessa.

Tessa.

Who's Tessa?


	6. Fluidity

**Chapter Soundtrack: Facades by Philip Glass**

Slowly, as I came to, I felt a calloused hand on my shoulder, gently rubbing up and down my arm. Subconsciously, I wriggled closer into the warmth, pressing myself against the wall of warmth.

Hearing a chuckle my eyes snapped open.

At first it was bright, blindingly so, and everything was blurred. Blinking, my eyes came into focus on the bright blue eyes peering down at me, amusement clear.

"If it wasn't so damn funny that the great Curtis Everett has been reduced to a teddy bear, I think I might have thrown up at the lovey-dovey eyes you two were making."

With a jolt, I realised where I was and who I was on. Uncurling myself from Curtis, I glared at Edgar, flipping him off as I got to my feet and walked over to Painter. With a sheepish smirk, he passed me a piece of paper with a charcoal sketch. It was of me, sleeping curled up against Curtis. My eyes were drawn to Curtis' face. Beneath the rough facial features, he seemed so soft, so gentle. Slowly, I wrapped my arm around Painter, as a thanks, still staring at the sketch he gave me.

Glancing up around me at everyone, I saw we were gathered around Gilliam, he had a small slip of red paper in his hand, he was reading whatever was on it ever so carefully. Everyone was looking at the paper, as if our lives depended on it.

Apart from Edgars teasing, everyone was silent, silent and waiting. Then Gilliam's deep, gravelly voice broke the silence.

"The water supply section."

Curtis' bumbling friend Paul was quick to supply information. "Yeah, it's just a few cars up. It's where the, uh, the water is cleansed, and recycled."

Almost as if he was ignoring Paul, Gilliam continued on. "It's one of the most crucial sections of the train."

There was a moments silence before Curtis caught onto their train of thought. "If we take it, we have the upperhand?"

You could tell a huge weight had been lifted off of everyone's shoulders at Gilliam's next words. "We don't even have to go to the very front. We control the water, we control the negotiations."

  
While everyone was processing this, while Namgoong was locating the panel to open the doors, I slipped over to where Curtis was crouched. He looked at me with confusion on his scruffy face. Taking a deep breath, I asked him about what he knew of me, now that I knew the others were not listening in, everyone deep in their own conversations. "Curtis, how do you know me?" My voice was almost a whisper as I asked.

"We were, friends, before everyone boarded the train and the world went to hell." He seemed hesitant to share.

Trying to lighten the mood, I joked "So, we've known eachother for 17 odd years huh?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Try 30." At my stunned look, he continued. "You were 5 years old when you and your father moved into the house next door to mine. Your parents had just gone through a rather nasty divorce and your mother was deemed unfit to raise a child. So, you moved in next door with your dearest father, and I remember as if it were yesterday, you in a little pink dress, your ebony black hair a complete contrast to your porcelain skin. The first thing you did was run into your backyard and roll around in the mud, then scream 'I told you I didn't like pink dad!' It was quite funny. All the while I was watching through the loose panel in the wooden fence, that would soon become our little escape route."

Gradually as he retold the story, Curtis became more and more animated, and by the end, his smile really had stretched from ear to ear, his eyes completely lit up. "As you got older, you really didn't get along with your dad, doing everything you could to annoy him, especially, spend time with me, your lower-class, filthy next-door neighbour. I guess not much has changed hey?"

It took me a moment to realise what he was saying, but when I did, I scowled and shuffled closer to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders in an attempted hug, in doing so, he lost his balance from his crouch and toppled over backwards to the point where he was lying on his back, and I was half across his broad chest.

Without thinking, I pecked him on his cheek before standing up and shuffling my way through all the people sitting down and to Tanya, my cheeks flushed and felt as if they were on fire.

As everyone had finally quieted down, crowded around Namgoong as he fiddled with the exposed wires, Edgar was the ever impatient one. "Er, hi. Hi, 'scuse me, sorry to bother you there, could I get you a glass of water or something to speed this up?" The translator he held to his throat conveyed his message and Namgoong simply ignored him. "Listen would you get on with it man! You're keeping us all fucking waiting."

By the time he had finished shouting at Namgoong, I reached over and slapped him upside the head. "Edgar! Language!"

He rounded on me with a strange look on his face, one similar to exasperation.

"Yes mum."

I missed the rest of the conversation, Edgar's two, sarcastic and very simple words felt like a slap across the face. Then a name popped into my head, much like my own did in the darkness.

Tessa.

Tessa.

Tessa.

Who's Tessa?


	7. Thánatos

**Chapter Soundtrack: The Hanging Tree - Peter Hollens**

I was pulled from my thoughts by Curtis, his hand on my shoulder, squatting in front of me. I jumped, ever so slightly, before looking up at him.

"Are you alright?"

The concern in his voice was subtle, but touching nevertheless. Nodding, I started to get up. Curtis didn't look convinced but let it slide.

"I believe Yona might be clairvoyant, we're going to see what she feels about this door. Namgoong almost has it open."

I nod again and move to stand on one side of Yona, Curtis on the other.

"Yona, what do you see?"

She just continues to stare blankly at the door, but she muttered something, too soft for either Curtis or I to hear.

"What?"

Panicked, she turns and screams at her father.

"STOP!"

It was too late.

As Namgoong connected the exposed wires, the doors opened in front of us. The absolute terror on Yona's face sent chills down my spine. The doors revealed a carriage full of heavily armed men in black balaclavas. Tanya's comment from earlier came back to me. The guards did leave in a hurry. To here.

Shoving an arm out, Curtis shoved Yona back into me, shoving us both back and rushing to the front. I tried to move forward but Edgar came to me, pulling me back behind him.

"Go, take Yona and hide. Curtis would kill me if either of you died."

With a nod, I pulled Yona along side me until we we flat up against the wall, hidden from the sight of the men in the carriage and Curtis as Edgar arrived at his side and passed him his axe. From where we stood, no one moved, a deadly stare down happening at the doorway, the only sound was the panting of terrified breaths and the constant rumble of the train on the tracks. The tense silence was broken by Curtis and Edgar, their voices a mere whisper from our hiding spot.

With a powerful bellow, Curtis lunged and the battle began, the sound of clashing metal and rattling chains, the squelch of blood, the dying screams of men, filled the air with the stench of raw flesh, the metallic taste of blood was palpable in the air. The call of advance came from Curtis, barely heard from our position, and was echoed by Edgar, much clearer. I was so worried for my boys.

My boys.

Well that's new. Never in the time that I've been awake, all of a couple of hours, have I ever thought of something being mine. Nothing, not even the clothes on my back or the shoes on my feet. My face didn't even feel like mine. But now, I had my boys; Edgar and Curtis.

The next thing I knew a loud horn blew through the carriage. "Coming up to the Yakaterina Bridge!" Before I could process what it meant a chanting countdown began and I was yanked to the side and told to brace myself. For what, I don't know. When the countdown reached 0, a chorus of "Happy New Year" resounded throughout the carriage. Not a few seconds later voices were screaming to get down and brace ourselves and to hang on. It was black, I couldn't see Yona who was clinging to my arm. As soon as the same voice called "impact!" the train shook violently, men being tossed around like flitter in a snow-globe. It was in that moment that I feared for my life and the lives of all of humanity, aboard the train that could derail at any given moment. The train lurched and bounced around, my heart in my throat.

It was amongst this chaos that I realised that Yona was no longer clutched to my side.

Taking the risk I crawled out of my corner to hear Edgar call out. "Hey Nam, what're you doing man?" Horrified I looked around to see Namgoong carrying Yona to the window throughout the pandemonium. All the while I could hear from the other end of the carriage Edgar carrying on about how crazy Namgoong was. As much as I may agree with him, and how wonderful it felt to hear that he was still alive, I couldn't help but think about how much I wanted him to shut up and stop drawing attention to himself. With Yona, I just wanted to pull her away from the window, back into the little hidden corner and hold her until this was all over. I felt that Namgoong was an irresponsible father who should have not let his daughter out into the fray, much less encourage it.

It was when they announced safe passage that I felt I could breathe again.

But the fighting didn't resume, no. The men in balaclavas just stood there, a solid black blockade. It was as silent as the dead that surrounded us all. The weight of the silence was considerable. You could cut through the tension with a knife. Until the garbled sound of a cat choking on a ball of its own fur came over a megaphone.


	8. Fiamma

**Chapter Soundtrack: Day One by Hans Zimmer**

"One two, one two."

My head shot up at that voice, I knew it, it seemed familiar and it disgusted me. Mason. Minister Mason. Why did I know this?

"Happy Yakaterina Bridge you filthy ingrates. You peop- who if not for the benevolent Wilfred, would have frozen solid 18 years ago today. You people who have suckled off the generous titty of Wilfred ever since for food, shelter, and now-in front of our hallowed water supply section no less-you repay his kindness with violent hooliganism." 

Edgar spat at this comment and I couldn't help but feel sick to my stomach. There was something about this woman, despite her seemingly unwavering devotion to this Wilfred figure, that made me extremely apprehensive.

"You scum." At this, she is passed a piece of paper, she looks over it before demanding in a much deadlier, quieter, demanding, final tone, vastly contrasting the previous disgusted and over exaggerated tone she had been using. "Precisely 74% of you shall die." 

Without pause, Curtis threw his axe with deadly precision, and would of hit its mark, Mason's face, if it weren't for the large hammer thrust in front of her face, blocking the axe. Mason then looks around in mock disbelief, handing down the megaphone to one of her lackey's. Speaking loud and clear, Mason demanded respect that I, nor any of the tail section rebels could give. "My friend, you suffer from the misplaced optimism of the doomed. This is going to be good." It was then that Mason and all the men in balaclavas put on these strange goggles.

It was in that moment that a deep fear struck me. The darkness was coming. How did I know this? I knew not. 

The lights went out one by one and I watched as Yona was crammed into a compartment in the wall, Curtis yelling for retreat.

When it went black it was silent, if only for a few moments.

It was then that the massacre started.

I backed myself into a corner, my breaths coming out in pants. There was yelling, so much yelling. The cries of dead men as axes and spears delivered a fatal blow.No one was safe. We couldn't tell who was rebel and who was guard, we were just blindly swinging, hoping to hit something. We would slaughter each other by the dozens. If only we could see.

Then, but for a moment, there was a sliver of light. It was fast, blink, and I would have missed it. It wasn't much, but it was enough to see the carnage within the carriage. So many still bodies with their eyes frozen wide open, their faces unable to hide the fear they felt in their final moments. Friend attacking friend, men swinging blindly. The men in the balaclavas exerting barely any effort, the strange goggles allowing them to see in the dark, to slaughter us. 

Despite the butchering revealed with the fragment of light, it also sparked an idea. This idea gave us hope.

"Chan! We need fire!"

This called was echoed back along the train to the tail section where the little boy, no older than 5, was more than likely taking shelter after stealing the matches off of Nam, moments after he woke. No mother in their right mind would willingly let their child out of their sight, especially during a time such as this.

It wasn't a few minutes later that cheering and chanting could be heard throughout the train, an angry battle cry from a man who was missing part of his arm, and a blazing light was propelled into the carriage. The single torch that was originally a small spark from a single match had spread and multiplied to light over a dozen torches. The carriage was flooded with light and the men with the balaclavas no longer held the advantage of sight over us. The tides had turned. We returned with vigor, never more determined to move forward. 

Keep moving forward.


End file.
